


Burton Redux

by Brumeier



Category: The Sentinel
Genre: Domestic Fluff, First Kiss, Friends to Lovers, M/M, Mutual Pining, Pets, Prompt Fill, Sentinel/Guide
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-13
Updated: 2016-08-13
Packaged: 2018-08-08 14:09:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,480
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7760911
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Brumeier/pseuds/Brumeier
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When a kitten comes into Jim's and Blair's lives he brings unexpected changes.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Burton Redux

It was a stand-off, neither side willing to concede. The alley was damp from the recent rains, and the smell from the nearby dumpsters – ripe, rotting garbage overdue for pick-up – was so powerful that Jim had his sense of smell dialed down to almost nothing. His thighs were starting to feel the strain of squatting for so long but he wasn’t about to admit defeat.

Very slowly, being careful not to break eye contact, he extended his hand palm up to show he meant no harm. His combatant edged forward a step or two and sniffed cautiously at the proffered hand. Jim held his breath, keeping as still as possible, until the bedraggled kitten butted against his thumb with its head.

Jim had sensed the presence of the diminutive feline the moment he’d arrived at the crime scene. It had remained hidden while he had examined the body and used his senses to search the surrounding area for clues. Then he’d waited for forensics to process the scene and the coroner to collect the body. He’d reported in to Simon, left Blair a message about dinner, and canvassed the nearby businesses to see if there were any witnesses to the homicide. He waited until everyone had cleared out before going back to see if he could lure the kitten out of hiding.

The poor animal was emaciated and infested with fleas. Jim didn’t know if it had been orphaned or abandoned, but it was clear that the kitten had fallen on hard times. Its left ear was torn, and it was missing its right eye – there was nothing but some ugly, recent-looking scar tissue where it had been. Its lip curled up in a permanent snarl on that same side. Jim couldn’t guess at its normal coloring because its fur was filthy and matted.

“You’re a hot mess,” Jim said conversationally. The kitten merely blinked its remaining golden eye at him and continued to rub against his hand. “Today’s your lucky day pal.”

Jim slid his hand under the kitten’s belly and lifted him up, wincing when it suddenly sprouted needle-sharp claws that dug into his skin. He lowered his touch dial, ignored the hissing, and wrapped the kitten up in an old blanket he normally kept in the truck.

“You’ll thank me later,” he promised the kitten, who was growling from within the blanket folds. Jim tucked the unhappy bundle into the crook of his arm and headed back to the truck. He’d take the kitten to the animal shelter on Euclid – it wasn’t a kill shelter, he’d checked – and drop it off with the capable people who worked there. The kitten would be cleaned, fed and brought up-to-date on its inoculations, and then hopefully adopted out to a good family. And Jim would have done his good deed for the day. Maybe even the week.

At no time did he have the slightest intention of telling his roommate about the feline rescue. He could already hear the lecture on how the tribe should naturally include animals, and envisioned being tested with a variety of four-legged critters. No, thank you. It was a good deed, nothing more, and as soon as Jim dropped the kitten off he’d put it out of his mind for good. It was a solid plan. He should’ve known better.

*o*o*o*

Blair was home grading papers when he got the call from Open Heart Animal Rescue letting him know that Detective Ellison’s kitten was ready to be picked up. He was sure it had to be a mistake. Jim had never expressed a desire to have a pet, regardless of how well he’d gotten along with Larry the Barbary ape. And surely he wouldn’t have gone ahead and gotten a cat without talking to his roommate about it first, unless it was some kind of payback for his mother’s recent unexpected visit, and if that was the case Blair was calling foul because he’d moved all the furniture back and made sure every hint of sage had been scrubbed away.

“I’ll be right down,” he told the woman on the phone. His curiosity was well and truly aroused, and he figured it couldn’t hurt to go check things out. If it was a misunderstanding he could probably get it cleared up with Jim being none the wiser; he was working a murder-for-hire case and wouldn’t have been available anyway.

The shelter was on Euclid, nestled between a dry cleaner and an abandoned store front that Blair thought might have once held some sort of repair shop. It didn’t seem like the ideal place for an animal rescue center, with no-where to really exercise the dogs that he could hear barking when he walked through the door, but maybe it was easier to help urban strays this close to the center of the city.

“Can I help you?” A young woman stood behind the reception desk. She wore a bright blue polo shirt with her name embroidered on it: _Kellie_.

“I’m Blair Sandburg. We spoke on the phone about Detective Ellison’s cat?”

“Of course. I have some papers for you to sign.”

Blair leaned on the counter. “I think there’s been some mistake, actually. He hasn’t said anything about a cat.”

Kellie typed something into her computer, and then turned a bright smile on him. “Everything checks out. Detective Ellison already paid for the shots and adoption fee.”

She handed him a clipboard with several forms attached to it and little red flags showing where he needed to sign. “You take care of these and I’ll go get him.”

Kellie went through one of the doors, leaving Blair staring at the forms. Jim had paid the adoption fee? Not a mistake, then. He’d purposefully gone behind Blair’s back and arranged to bring a cat into the Loft. Why was he playing it so close to the vest? Why all the secrecy? Blair signed and initialed in all the indicated spaces, mind racing.

Was it possible that Jim needed the cat for physical reasons? He was a really touchy-feely guy, which Blair always attributed to the Sentinel part of him that needed constant grounding and a tactile connection with his Guide. But it wasn’t like Blair could sit and cuddle with him on the couch, no matter how happy he would’ve been to comply with such a request; his wishful thinking wasn’t going to make Jim willing to get that up close and personal with him. But a cat that could sit on his lap and offer a different tactile experience, that made sense.

But why hadn’t he just said something? Blair would’ve helped him find just the right cat.

“Here we are!” Kellie returned with a cardboard cat carrier in one hand and an angry looking ball of gray fluff in the other. It took Blair a minute to realize that the poor little thing wasn’t snarling at him, it was disfigured.

“It’s very nice of Detective Ellison to take this little guy in,” Kellie said cheerfully. She set the carrier on the counter. “A lot of people would be put off by the scars. This boy has been through the wars, yes he has.”

The girl cooed at the kitten, her voice dropping into baby talk. Blair never understood the need to talk to babies, much less animals, that way. There were different schools of thought about the universality of baby talk; he’d read several papers that suggested –

“Mr. Sandburg?”

Blair snapped back to attention to find that Kellie was holding out the cat carrier for him. The one-eyed furball was inside, growling and clawing at the cardboard. Of course Jim would pick this ugly, surly little scrap of a cat. Another stray in need of a home, just like Blair himself had been not too long ago.

“Good luck to you and Detective Ellison!” Kellie said cheerfully.

“We’re gonna need it,” Blair muttered in return.

*o*o*o*

By the time Jim got home Blair had spent far too much money at the pet store outfitting the kitten – self-cleaning litterbox and low-dust pellet filler, food bowls and a big bag of dry food, cat treats, cat toys, even a fancy cat bed. The kitten had made a very thorough investigation of the entire downstairs, seemingly too small to manage the stairs up to Jim’s room, and then curled up in a patch of sunlight by the windows.

Naturally Jim sensed something was different as soon as he was through the door. “What did you do?”

“Nice to see you too. How was your day?” Blair grinned at him from his spot on the couch, a stack of graded papers beside him.

“Is there an animal in here?” Jim tossed his keys in the basket by the door, nostrils flaring as he breathed in deeply. “Cat?”

“You tell me, big guy. Why didn’t you say you were adopting a cat? Why the big secret?”

That earned Blair a frown, and Jim looked so honestly confused that he wondered if maybe it really had been a mistake after all. The kitten chose that moment to introduce himself, stalking over to Jim’s shoes and giving them a careful once-over. Blair watched, fascinated, as a soft look crossed his Sentinel’s face. He bent down and scooped the kitten up, wincing as claws came out.

“You’re looking better, buddy.”

“Ha. So you _do_ know each other.”

“We’ve met.” Jim set the animal back on the floor, but it immediately scaled his pants leg like some kind of miniature mountain goat. “Whoa.”

“He likes you.” Blair watched the two of them thoughtfully. “One cat to another? Maybe he senses your spirit animal.”

“Or maybe he’s just a cat. What’s he doing here?” The kitten settled on Jim’s shoulder.

“The animal shelter called. They said you dropped him off, and paid in advance to adopt him.”

Jim joined Blair on the couch, stretching out his legs. “I paid his fee, but not to bring him home. To make him easier to adopt. You’ll have to take him back.”

That caught Blair up short. “What? Why?” So much for his theories on Sentinel touch needs, although his roommate did have a hand on the little furball, petting him almost absently.

“We can’t have a cat, Chief. Just think of all the hair, not to mention the smells.”

They were valid concerns, but Blair also knew they were easily worked around. Jim had much better control over his senses now and he’d easily be able to adjust his dials as needed. And given his propensity for cleanliness it was doubtful a buildup of fur would be an issue.

“Those aren’t good reasons,” Blair said. “Try again.”

Jim gave him a narrow-eyed look, the effect somewhat spoiled by the purring gray fluff partially blocking his line of sight. “I’m not a pet guy, Sandburg. The long hours alone –”

“Cats don’t need a lot of one-on-one care. They’re actually pretty self-contained. Besides, who else is going to adopt this guy? He’s not going to win any awards, you know?” He felt vaguely guilty for saying so, as if he might hurt the kitten’s feelings. And really, he was already getting used to that little sneer.

“I’m not cleaning the cat box.”

“Okay.” Blair fought a grin, amused at Jim’s surly capitulation. 

“Trial period only, Sandburg.” Jim plucked the kitten off his shoulder and dumped him unceremoniously in Blair’s lap. “I’m gonna hit the shower. Take-out tonight?”

“I’ll call for Thai.”

Jim got up and gave the kitten an absent-minded scritch behind the tattered ear. Blair watched him go, shaking his head.

“Tell you what, furball. You’re gonna have to really work hard to win him over.”

In response the kitten let out a little huff of breath and curled up on Blair’s thigh, claws out and kneading.

*o*o*o*

Blair sighed, pillow over his head. The kitten, who’d been silent as a ghost all day, had been meowing piteously ever since they’d gone to bed. He’d shown absolutely no interest in the cat bed – that was a waste of fifteen bucks – and instead sat outside Blair’s room clawing at the door and making way too much noise for an animal so small.

“Fine,” he grumbled eventually. He tossed aside the pillow and got up, opening the door a crack. He cursed Jim, who probably had his hearing dialed down. The kitten zipped in and managed to scale the blankets to get up on the bed. He made himself comfortable on Blair’s pillow.

“This is _not_ going to be a regular thing,” Blair said. He crawled back into bed and sighed when the kitten stuck its nose in his ear.

It felt like he’d barely gotten back to sleep when the yowling started again. This time the kitten was sitting on the bottom step of the stairs up to Jim’s room.

“Sandburg!” Jim bellowed. So much for the dials.

“What do you want me to do?” Blair asked at normal volume, knowing his Sentinel would hear him. “Have a man to feline talk with him? He wants to come upstairs.”

There was an inarticulate noise of disgruntlement from the bedroom that had Blair biting back a laugh. “Fine. Bring him up so I can get some damn sleep.”

“Come on, howler monkey.” Blair scooped up the kitten and carried him up the stairs.

The moonlight that came through the skylight illuminated the bedroom too well. He could clearly see Jim lying there, comforter down around his hips and eye mask pushed up to his forehead. Blair’s mouth went dry at the sight of his roommate’s bare torso, as it always did. The man was sexy, that had been apparent very early on in their acquaintance, and Blair had always appreciated the male form just as much as the female one. And perhaps this particular male form a bit _too_ much.

“You sleepwalking, Chief?”

“What? Oh.” Blair felt his cheeks heating from being caught staring. He set the kitten on the bed, watched as he sniffed around before settling in Jim’s armpit.

“Wonderful,” Jim grumbled. He pulled the eye mask back down. “Don’t let the door hit you, Sandburg.”

Never let it be said that Blair Sandburg couldn’t take a hint. He took one last look, and then hustled himself back down to his room. He spent the next forty or so minutes fighting back the waves of wanting that made his chest ache, until he finally fell asleep.

*o*o*o*

Blair was bleary-eyed in the morning. The kitten had been mouthy all night, alternating between Jim’s bedroom and his. If he got two hours of unbroken sleep, he got a lot. Of course the kitten seemed completely unaffected, batting around a catnip mouse while Blair and Jim got ready to leave for the day.

“This isn’t working,” Jim grumbled into his coffee. “I can’t do another night like this.”

“I’ll ask around today, see if anyone has any suggestions.” Blair slung his messenger bag over his shoulder. “I have class till eleven, then I’ll swing by the department.”

“Good. I want you to take a look at what we’ve got so far. Maybe we need fresh eyes on this thing.”

“Sure. Oh, and we need to figure out a name for your little furball.”

Jim shook his head. “I’m not convinced he’s staying. No sense getting too attached.”

Blair nodded. It was sound reasoning, he couldn’t fault the man for that, but he also couldn’t help wondering if something else was at play. Jim didn’t always have an easy time making connections with people – too much bad history, fear of abandonment, blah blah psychology – and there was no reason to expect that would be any different with a pet. Maybe especially a pet, which would have a limited life span to start with.

“Whatever you’re plotting, work it out later. We gotta go.”

Jim rinsed out his cup while Blair checked that the kitten’s food and water dishes were full, and then they headed out together.

It was a good twelve hours before they walked back through the door, exhausted and ready for a quick dinner of leftovers before they retired to their respective beds. Unfortunately, the kitten had filled the empty hours by dusting the Loft with shredded paper: toilet paper, paper towels, yesterday’s newspaper, the latest _Journal of Anthropology_.

Blair just stood there, dumbfounded, while Jim cursed a blue streak beside him. So much for getting to bed early.

“I’m having a very strong sense of déjà vu, Chief,” Jim said when he’d finished defaming the kitten’s lineage back three or four generations.

“At least it’s just paper this time.” The destruction Larry caused had included breakables like lamps and dishes and picture frames. Not to mention the personal statement Larry had left in Blair’s shoe; there’d been no saving that poor Converse.

“Better get it cleaned up.” It sounded like an order, but Jim pitched in and helped Blair sweep up every bit of paper. By the time they were done Blair was ready to topple over from exhaustion, and his roommate didn’t look much better.

“Dinner can wait till breakfast. I’m turning in.” Jim gave Blair a chuck on the shoulder as he moved past him to get to the stairs.

“Night Jim.” Blair watched him go, that familiar ache settling back in his chest. He was going to have start thinking about alternate living arrangements soon. Being around Jim so much was hard, and he worried he was going to slip up soon and his adolescent crush would be found out.

The kitten was making a beeline for the stairs and Blair scooped him up before he could get there. “Oh, no you don’t. We all need to sleep tonight, including you.”

Deciding it wouldn’t kill him to skip eating Blair went to bed as well, taking the kitten in with him and closing the door. The little paper shredder didn’t offer up any protests, just took up his spot on the pillow and set about grooming himself.

Blair hoped it wasn’t too optimistic to hope that the kitten had just needed a day to acclimate to his new surroundings.

*o*o*o*

The pillow muffled Blair’s scream. He was living the previous night all over again, with yowling from the kitten and grumbling from the Sentinel. He was so tired he could barely see straight, and he had to proctor another exam in the morning.

He sensed rather than heard Jim’s presence in his doorway, and Blair lifted his face off the pillow. Jim had the one-eyed furball in his hand, where it was looking incredibly smug. “I’m five steps away from homicide, Chief. Or whatever you call it when you murder a cat.”

“Felicide,” Blair replied wearily.

“I thought you were going to ask around. Did you find anything out?”

Blair rolled onto his back, more to stop from staring at Jim’s naked torso than to get comfortable. “Yeah, I did. But I don’t think it’s going to help.”

“Spill it.”

“Right. So, cats get a feeling of security from sleeping with each other or with their owners. It’s why the little guy sleeps right next to us. It’s also how they show their affection.”

Jim huffed out an annoyed breath. “He’s already sleeping with us.”

And now they were at the part Blair hadn’t wanted to bring up, because he knew Jim would scoff at the notion. The kitten was already on borrowed time, and it was ridiculous to assume that Jim would bend any further to accommodate the little furball.

“Spit it out, Sandburg. I can tell there’s something else.”

“You know how cats like to sleep in a big furry pile with each other? It’s the same notion here. Only we’re the other cats he wants to sleep with. Together. The three of us.”

That statement was met with silence, and when it kept stretching on Blair looked over at Jim. His Sentinel was staring at the kitten with a speculative expression on his face. The kitten, of course, had fallen asleep in Jim’s hand, which he was cradling against his chest.

“I can keep researching,” Blair said. “I’ll call the vet in the morning and –”

“No. If we don’t sleep now, we’ll be useless tomorrow and we need to wrap up that case before someone else dies. Up and at ‘em.”

Blair just stared at him. “What?”

“Upstairs. If I don’t get some sleep I’ll be the one killing people. Let’s go.” 

Jim walked away and Blair could hear his tread on the stairs. Surely he wasn’t serious. Blair’s heart was pounding loud enough to be heard without sensitive hearing, or that’s how it felt. He couldn’t sleep in the same bed as Jim. The fact that he’d kept his attraction secret for so long was a miracle, or else Jim knew and chose not to acknowledge it because he obviously didn’t swing that way.

Blair had never come across anything in his research regarding Sentinel sexuality – if Burton had any ideas on that, he'd been close-mouthed about it – and it probably made sense that Sentinels skewed heterosexual so that they had the opportunity to pass along their very special genetics. Although, considering the close relationship between the Guide and the Sentinel, it made just as much sense for sexuality to be a more fluid construct, because -

“Sandburg!” Jim bellowed, and Blair scrambled out of bed. 

He briefly debated whether or not he should change into something more substantial than boxers and an undershirt, but decided it wouldn’t make him feel any less vulnerable.

Blair climbed the stairs with an odd mix of anticipation and dread, his steps heavy. How often had he imagined getting into bed with Jim? Wondered what it would be like to have all those enhanced senses focused on him in a decidedly intimate way? Jim might be able to finally get some sleep, but Blair wasn't sure he could. He’d be too nervous of embarrassing himself in his sleep, cuddling up to Jim and then having to explain himself in the morning. The idea was mortifying.

“Stay on your side,” Jim ordered when Blair finally made it to the bedroom. He’d even put a pillow in the middle of the bed, as if that would be an effective barrier.

Blair dutifully slid into bed on the far side, and kept himself as close to the edge as possible. Not that it mattered, because Jim’s half-naked presence was so big it seemed to fill the whole room.

The kitten moved between them, sniffing at Blair’s ear and nudging at Jim’s shoulder, and then he settled on the barrier pillow, curled up in a tiny, fluffy ball, and fell asleep.

“I second that,” Jim said. He pulled his eyeshades down and turned his back to Blair. “Goodnight, Sandburg.”

“Goodnight.”

Blair listened to Jim’s breathing slow and deepen as he fell asleep, listened to the kitten purr, and wondered why he had such bad karma.

*o*o*o*

The light was too bright in the morning, which meant Blair went from sleepy contentment to panic in under a second. He had an exam to proctor! And then he was panicked for different reasons when he realized that while he was still on his side of the bed, so was Jim. In fact, the man was very cozily spooned up behind him, one arm casually draped over Blair’s hip.

Blair tried not to move, tried not to breathe. How had this happened? Had he given some unwitting signal in his sleep that the Sentinel part of Jim had responded to? Things were going to be awkward now, he’d have to –

“I decided on a name for the cat,” Jim murmured in his ear, making Blair twitch in surprise.

“What?”

“Cat. Name. I picked one.”

Blair desperately tried to figure out what was happening. If Jim was really awake, and not talking in his sleep, why hadn’t he moved away? Why wasn’t he doing that thing where he became irrationally angry for something that wasn’t even Blair’s fault?

“Um, Jim? I think –”

“Burton.”

“The explorer?”

“The cat.”

Blair threw caution to the wind and rolled over. He thought maybe he could get a read off Jim’s facial expression, but they were too close and all he could see were Jim’s blue eyes staring back at him.

“Jim, you –”

And then Jim was kissing him, heedless of morning breath or scratchy stubble, and Blair’s brain short-circuited. He had a moment to think that he might actually still be asleep and dreaming, and then he was kissing Jim back. It was kind of embarrassing, the noises Blair was making, but hell, he’d wanted Jim for so long. The man might be having a brain fever or something, but Blair was going to enjoy it for as long as he could.

“So what do you think?” Jim asked when they finally came up for air.

“I think we’re overdue for a conversation,” Blair replied. Then again, he could feel Jim’s hardness against his hip and talking was incredibly overrated.

“I meant about the cat.”

“What about him?”

“I think we should name him Burton. After the explorer, not the actor.” Jim propped himself up on one elbow and grinned down at Blair. “Since they both brought us together.”

Blair narrowed his eyes. “This all seems to be coming out of left field, big guy. Why the sudden change? Not that I’m complaining.”

Jim gave a lopsided shrug. “I thought I was projecting. Turns out I wasn’t.”

“And the cat made you realize this?”

“You having a sex dream about me and talking in your sleep made me realize this,” Jim corrected with a smirk. “But if you hadn’t been sleeping up here, I might not have noticed.”

Blair flushed, embarrassed. “Oh.”

“If you’re interested,” Jim said, his voice lowering seductively. “We can make that dream a reality.”

He rocked his hips, and Blair went from half-hard himself to fully erect in a dizzyingly short amount of time. “Oh, yeah. Hey, speaking of little Burton redux, where is he anyway?”

A sound drifted up from the living room that sounded an awful lot like paper being methodically shredded. Blair sighed. Not again.

“We’ll deal with that mess later,” Jim said.

Blair was fully on board with that as well. He forgot about everything else – exams, police business, eating – in favor of learning the feel of Jim’s body and how high he could take his Sentinel with just a slight adjustment of the dials.

When they finally got out of bed to start the day, Blair treated Burton to a couple forkfuls of tuna.

“Thanks, furball,” Blair said, scratching him behind the ears. 

The kitten just stared back him, mouth curled in that little snarl, and stalked off to bat at a torn piece of paper.

**Author's Note:**

>  **AN:** So, two years ago, almost to the day, the group over at [You Should Be Writing](http://ushobwri.livejournal.com/30687.html) posted reveals for a prompt challenge. There were six very general prompts to choose from, one of them being ‘sharing a new pet, found or given’. I filled a different prompt, but also started this fic, which I planned to add later. 
> 
> Much, much later, as it turns out. LOL! I don’t know why it stalled, but this summer I’ve been resurrecting some older WIPs and this is one of them. Better late than never?
> 
> Burton the kitten was inspired in part by [ Sir Stuffington](http://www.motherjones.com/mixed-media/2013/09/sir-stuffington-pirate-cat-viral-photos-blazer-schaffer-interview).


End file.
